he said, giving her a quick sidelong smile.
“You will,” she promised. “The Afghan traders brought them in the early days. 1840, to be precise. They thrived here. We even export them to Arab countries. They’re part of the landscape now, but they can be very destructive. Not as much as hoofed animals, however. Their feet are adapted for deserts. They have soft pads, but they eat everything in sight, depleting the food supply for our indigenous species. They’re very dangerous too, when the male goes on heat.”
“The male?” One black eyebrow shot up.
“Bizarre, but true. At the last count there were over a million feral camels scattered over the desert areas of the Territory, Western Australian, South Australia and Queensland’s desert fringe. The introduced water buffalo of the Territory do tremendous damage to the environment and the ecosystem. Even our dingoes were introduced.”
“But I thought they were native Australian animals?” He glanced back at her. She had taken her beautiful hair out of its plait. Now it was sliding over her shoulders and down her back in shining, deep sensuous waves. She had changed for lunch, as had he. Now she was wearing a blue T-shirt with a silver designer logo on the front. The clingy fabric drew his eyes to the delicate shape of her high breasts.
“They’ve been here for thousands of years,” she was saying, snapping him back to attention, “but they came from South East Asia originally, where they must have been domestic dogs. Over the four or five thousand years they’ve been here, they’ve established themselves in the wilds. They’re our number-one predator. They can attack, even kill—especially if the victim is small, like a child.”
“One doesn’t like to think of that,” he said gravely. “What about sheep? Mature cattle would be able to fend them off, surely?” He was frowning slightly.
“Not the calves. The alpha male is especially dangerous. So is the alpha female. They hunt in packs. We don’t have the Great Wall of China, but we do have the longest man-made fence in the world.”
He was quick to reply. “I have heard of the famous Dingo Fence.”
“We’ll take you to see Kooraki’s section of it before you go home,” she offered.
Even thinking of his departure gave her a distinct wrench. That only added to her sense of unreality. Who could expect to be so susceptible in such a very short time? She had to be aware her sense of trepidation was spiced with undeniable excitement. She only hoped he wasn’t witness to it.
“The Dingo Fence is close to six thousand kilometres long,” she carried on, her tone rather clipped. “It was shortened from well over eight thousand kilometres in 1980 because of the high repair costs. Six feet of wire mesh with steel and timber posts. It’s a never-ending job maintaining it, but it protects over twenty-six million hectares of sheep and cattle grazing country. You’re in trouble big-time if you forget to shut a gate.”
“Who would know out here?” He waved a hand at the empty miles that ran for as far as the eye could see.
“You’d be surprised. Everyone keeps an eye out. Everyone knows if there are tourists or strangers in the area. Cattle-and-sheep men would never be guilty of such an offence.”
He could see the jagged shape of the hills off to the north-west, their broken peaks and domes silhouetted against the cobalt-blue sky. The furnace-red of the earth made a wonderful contrast to the cloudless blue sky and the amazingly green trees and vegetation. The most beautiful tree he had seen along their route Ava had told him was the Outback’s iconic Ghost Gum. It was easy to understand why. The tall upright tree with pendulous dark green leaves had a smooth, near blindingly white trunk and branches that made it glow in the sunlight. Even the distant hills were changing colour from brown to an orange that deepened into the red of the earth.
“You can stop here,” Ava said as they arrived near the foot of a tumbling white waterfall.
Once out of the Jeep they could hear the loud murmur of the waters and their splash into the circular pool. A surprising amount of water was falling into it.
Varo moved closer, looking down into the depths. The silvered mirror-like surface threw back his own reflection. That too of the beautiful blonde Ava, who stood at his shoulder like an ethereal vision.
“It’s so hot. A swim would be most welcome.” He turned to her, the movement of his wide shoulders causing a flutter of air to cross the pool and form ripples.
“Bathing suits optional?” The coolness of her voice was intended not to give her inner turmoil away.
“You don’t think it the duty of a good hostess to—”
“Varo, I know you’re teasing,” she protested, looking up into his brilliant mocking eyes.
“Even if you’re really tempted?” He seemed to be towering over her. “The water is crystal-clear.” He bent to dip a hand into it. “And so refreshingly cool.”
“Varo, I’m getting a little nervous around you,” Ava murmured.
He straightened. “You are very safe with me.”
“I know that,” she said hurriedly. “You also know what I mean. If you want a swim we have many lagoons. Dev, Amelia and I spend countless hours swimming in our favourite lagoon, the Half-Moon. The most gorgeous water lilies on the station grow there—the sacred blue lotus. They decorate the perimeter, along with all the water reeds. The lagoon is very deep in the middle. One day you can swim there. Maybe have a picnic.”
“With you?” He fixed his dark eyes on her.
“Maybe,” she said, half turning away.
“Maravillosa!” He had an instant vision of her, naked as a water nymph, her long golden hair cascading over her shoulders, her beautiful skin with the lustre of a pearl.
Ava, for her part, was glad of her gift for composure—even if it was being giving an almighty workout. She pointed upwards, a pulse beating in her throat. “There’s a big cave up there that goes so far back into the hills I used to be terrified I would get lost if I ventured too far. See, Varo?” She glanced at him, only to find him looking at her. “It’s the one partially camouflaged by those feathery sprays of acacia. You’ll have to duck your head at the entrance, but the interior at the central point is over two metres high.”
“The roof has never caved in on anyone?” he asked, beginning to stare upwards.
Ava gave a little shudder. “Never. But I didn’t dare to venture into the cave’s recesses like Dev. Even Mel was scared. We have a famous mystery novel called Picnic at Hanging Rock, written by Joan Lindsay. It was made into a film way back in the 1970s. It tells the story of the disappearance of several schoolgirls and their teacher during a picnic at Hanging Rock on St Valentine’s Day. The book is in our library at home. I’ve read and re-read it. It’s a haunting tale. The missing party was never found.”
“You think you will disappear as well?” he asked in teasing fashion.
“Wait until you’re inside the cave,” she replied, her composure regained.
“You think I’ll get cold feet?”
“Laugh all you like.” She gave him a sparkling look that was like a brief taunt. “I’ve
